Every Step of the Way
by Adalanta
Summary: Answering a call for help leaves Doc Roe wounded and forced to rely on Sergeant Lipton's ability to keep him alive. NO SLASH. Oneshot.


Main Characters: Eugene Roe, Carwood Lipton

Summary: Answering a call for help leaves Doc Roe wounded and forced to rely on Sergeant Lipton's ability to keep him alive. No Slash.

Rating: K+ (for a couple of bad words)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except for Pvt. Davis. No offense is meant to any of the real people in this story. I have the upmost respect for the sacrifices that they endured to keep our country and the world safe.

Every Step of the Way

"MEDIC!"

The scream echoed around the small Holland town, reverberating off the brick and stone buildings and making it impossible to locate over the sounds of battle that surrounded him. Medic Eugene Roe popped his head over the stone fence he was kneeling behind, ignoring the German gunfire that increased as his head was spotted, and scanned the area closest to him.

Nothing.

He ducked down again and closed his eyes, concentrating, waiting for the call to come again as he knew it would. He hated waiting…every second that passed would make his job that much harder and make the odds of his patient's survival that much worse. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon_, he chanted silently, his body vibrating with nervous energy. As the seconds dragged on, he grew more and more worried. Was he too late? "C'mon, gimme a chance here," he muttered angrily, frustration making his Louisiana accent thicker than usual.

"MEDIC!"

This time he could tell it came from somewhere to the east of his current position, and without a second's hesitation, he took off, darting behind buildings and fences without stopping. Gunfire peppered the ground behind him as he ran, flinging up dirt and small rocks in his wake. As he rounded another corner, he finally spotted a soldier on the ground behind the next building, a second man leaning over him trying to hold the writhing figure still. Seconds later he slid to his knees beside the two men, quickly taking in the worried face of First Sergeant Lipton as he looked up at him, his bloody hands pressing on the stomach of one of the young replacements in Easy Company.

"Stomach shot, Doc." He reported, his voice tense.

Roe nodded, "Let me see," even as he pulled a pressure bandage and sulfa from his bag. Lipton nodded and moved his hands to the young man's shoulders, trying to hold him still so the medic could see the wound.

"Hey, Davis, Doc's here now. He'll fix you up. Just hang in there, kid," the sergeant said softly, but Roe could see that the kid was beyond hearing anything. Davis kept gasping for air, trying to roll onto his side and curl around the wound – which was the last thing Doc wanted him to do.

"C'mon, Davis, you gotta hold still for me." He grabbed at the bloody hand that crept back towards the hole in his stomach. "No, no, don't touch it, I got it, okay? Just calm down, you're gonna be fine."

He absently heard Sgt. Lipton keep up a steady pattern of reassurances as he studied the wound. It didn't look too bad as stomach wounds went, much to his surprise, but from the amount of blood pooling beneath Davis, he knew that the exit wound was bleeding heavily. Blood loss was the main concern at this point. He quickly ripped a packet of sulfa open and covered the entrance wound with it, pressing a bandage tightly to the hole and ignoring the howl of pain his action provoked. "Sarge, hold this." Lipton nodded and held the bandage as Roe turned Davis onto his side to check the exit wound. _Larger than the entrance wound, but other than that, it doesn't look too bad._ Another packet of sulfa and another bandage followed and soon he was securing them both in place. Laying the wounded man back down, he gave him a shot of morphine for the pain. "Don't worry, Davis, you're gonna be fine. Just relax, we're gonna get you out of here." A few seconds later Davis was out from the morphine and ready to be moved.

Now that he was finished patching Davis up, Roe realized that the sound of gunfire was growing louder. Lipton must have noticed his worried glance. "You ready to go, Doc?" he asked. "Sounds like the fighting's moving back this way."

"Yeah, let's go." Without needing to be told, Lipton grabbed one of Davis' arms and the two men pulled the unconscious man up between them. They'd only made it a few houses away when a sudden burst of gunfire sent them diving to the ground behind a low stone fence connecting the area between two houses. "I though this was the right way," he shouted over the barrage, looking over at the Sergeant crouched by his side.

Lipton grimaced. "Well, it _was_ the right way…but now it isn't." Both men crouched lower as several rounds came skimming across the top of the fence, spraying them with small fragments of stone. "Here, take Davis for a second." Eugene held the young replacement close to him as Lipton shifted out a bit from the fence to get a better idea of the situation. Thankfully, he stayed low to the ground and managed to avoid any of the bullets flying over his head as he carefully studied one way and then the other and then scrambled back to the relative safety of the fence. He leaned back against the cold stone and thought for a moment. "Do you have a pair of wire-cutters?" he finally asked.

Doc shook his head. "No, I don' got any."

Sighing, the sergeant nodded. "Me either. Well, it would have been easier if we had 'em, but we can still do it without 'em." At Doc's frown, he quickly explained. "Okay, we can't keep going this way or we'll just keep running into more Krauts. We need to go that way," here he pointed to the barbed wire fence about 10 to 15 yards away that was parallel to their current position. Beyond the fence was a chicken coop and beyond that, a house. "If we cross behind the closest house here, we should have a few seconds before the Krauts figure out what we're going to do. By that time, we'll be over the fence and behind the house. Got it?"

"Yeah." Doc couldn't help but grin slightly at the NCO. "Just like the obstacle course back in basic, huh?"

"Yeah, boy, you got it," Lipton grinned back, excitement shining in his eyes.

"You go over the fence first, and I'll pass Davis over to you."

"No, Doc, you should go first."

"Uh-uh," he shook his head. "I'm taller than you, I can hand him over easier."

"But Doc – " Whatever Lipton was about to say was abruptly cut off as another barrage of bullets flew over them. "Fine, I'll go first. But watch it, Doc."

Nodding his agreement, Roe shifted Davis between them. "Ready?" He tightened his grip on Davis' arm and around his waist.

"Remember to keep low, okay? Just like in basic." He took a deep breath and let it go slowly, his steady gaze holding Roe's, conveying his confidence…and his concern. "Alright…go!"

Bending as low as possible and still staying upright, they dashed the few yards to the house and then headed to the fence. As Lipton grabbed the top of the fence and hopped swiftly over, Roe maneuvered Davis until he was holding him in his arms like a child, one arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees. By the time the First Sergeant landed and turned around, Roe was already handing the wounded man over the fence.

Lipton's eyes suddenly widened. "Hurry, Doc, they're at the fence!"

Eugene grabbed the barbed wire and had just started to hop over when bullets started flying past him. He ignored the sharp stinging of his hands as the wire bit into his palms and had half of his body over the fence when something punched his rucksack hard and shoved him sideways. A horrible burning seared across his leg and then he was landing hard on his side. Stunned by the landing, he managed to roll to his feet and keep moving. Before he realized it, he had Davis' arm around him again, and the three of them were behind the chicken coop. He slumped against the wooden structure, chest heaving and gasping from getting the wind knocked out of him during his fall. He heard Lipton return fire at the Germans behind them and in a haze, he knew he was supporting Davis's entire weight, and yet he didn't feel it. "C'mon, Doc, move," he heard Lipton snap and he pushed himself on, not really seeing where he was going but still running. Time passed, but he didn't know how long. Everything was a blur. Gunshots and harsh shouting seemed to surround him. _Run,_ he told himself. _Keep running, don't stop 'til you're told to._ Clinging to that thought, he kept going.

"Doc," he finally heard. "Let's take a break for a minute, okay? I think we're okay here." A slight pause. "Doc?" Another pause. "Eugene? Crap!"

Eugene wasn't sure what happened, but the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes and looking up at a blurry face speaking in a worried voice. "Doc, can you hear me? I need you to focus on me, Doc, c'mon now." He blinked once, slowly, and things looked a bit clearer. "That's it, you can do it. C'mon, Gene. Let me know you're okay, here." He blinked again, and this time the blurry features sharpened into Sergeant Lipton's. He stared up at the sergeant, puzzled, his mind a jumbled mass of images and sounds. His head hurt – that he knew for certain. He closed his eyes again to block out the pain and heard a panicked, "No, Doc, don't close your eyes!" They snapped back open. "That's better, Doc. Just stay awake, alright? I've sent one of the men to find Spina. He'll be here in just a few minutes."

His hand unconsciously moved towards his head to see what was wrong but Lipton grabbed it before he could make contact. "No, Gene, leave it alone." Lipton frowned and looked down at something else. "I need you to listen to me, okay? I need to keep pressure on your leg, and I need to use both hands. Now, I'm gonna let go of your hand, but I want you to stay still. Keep your hands where they are, alright?"

Lipton looked so serious that he automatically responded, "Sure, Sarge." His voice sounded so weak that he barely recognized it as his own. _What happened?_ he wondered, unknowingly voicing the question out loud.

"You took a pretty good knock to the head, Doc." Lipton moved out of his field of vision, but kept talking. "Sulfa, then the bandage, right, Doc?"

"Yeah." He heard someone rifling through his medical bag and then the sound of paper tearing. "Sarge?"

"This is gonna hurt, Doc. Sorry."

Lipton's words barely had time to register before a sharp, agonizing pain sliced through his left thigh. He let out a strangled cry and tried to twist away from the pain. "Dang it, Doc, hold still!" The pressure on his leg increased forcing him to hold still and almost making him black out from the burning pain. He clenched his teeth but even that couldn't hold back another cry of agony. "I'm sorry, Doc, but I've gotta get the bleeding to stop. You're already lost a lot of blood." The words flowed over him but he'd stopped listening by that time, too busy concentrating on breathing through the pain to think about anything else.

"Doc, you still with me?"

"Y-yeah," he gasped, finally opening his eyes to see Lipton leaning over him, his face pale. "Wh-what happened?"

"You lost a fight with a barbed wire fence." The smile was faint, but it was there.

"What?"

"What's the last thing you remember, Doc?"

He closed his eyes, thinking back, pushing his way through the jumbled memories. _Gunfire…MEDIC!… running…blood…Davis. _"Davis!" he gasped, his eyes flying open. "Where's Davis? How is he?" He twisted his neck, frantically looking for the wounded private, ignoring the pain that flared in his skull at the movement. _Please let him be okay!_

"Whoa, Doc, calm down! He's doing fine. He's just to the left of you, but you can't see with me here. You did a great job of bandaging him, Gene. Even with us lugging him halfway across town, they didn't move a bit."

"I need to see him, Sarge." _Just to be sure…_

"Not now, Doc. In a bit."

"No…now." He insisted in as strong a voice as possible…which was nowhere near normal but better than it had been.

Lipton stared at him, studying him so closely that Eugene almost looked away. Almost. "You're not going to give up until you see him, are you?"

"No," he replied simply.

"Thank God for the stubbornness of medics," he sighed, though the tone suggested that just the opposite was true in this case. "I'll move over to your other side, but I still need to keep pressure on this until Spina arrives, okay? It's gonna hurt."

He smirked at that. "It already does, Sarge."

"Yeah, I imagine it does." The pressure let up completely on his thigh, and he was able to take a semi-deep breath while Lipton stepped over him to switch sides. Then the pain flared up again as the pressure returned, though it didn't seem quite as bad this time.

Once he was able to breathe steadily, he twisted his head to the left to inspect Private Davis. From what he could see (though that wasn't all that much), the private seemed to be okay. The bandages were still in place and were bloody, but not soaked through. And he didn't appear to be in any pain – the morphine was keeping him out.

Satisfied, he rolled his head to the right to see Sgt. Lipton only to notice the strangest look on his face. Neither man said anything for a bit, just looked at the other. Eugene couldn't help but wonder exactly what the other man was seeing. A dark haired, dark eyed Cajun from Louisiana? Another soldier? A medic? "What?"

Lipton snorted softly. "You're one of a kind, Doc. Don't you ever forget that." Seeing Eugene's puzzled expression, he just sighed and shook his head. His mouth opened to explain but whatever he was going to say was forgotten as several pairs of footsteps raced their way. "Spina! Over here!"

"Hey, Sarge," came Spina's good-natured voice from a few yards away, getting closer with each word. "What do you got for me?" Before Lipton could reply, the medic came close enough to see for himself. "Shit! Gene!" Spina went to his knees between the two wounded men, "Gene? Sarge, what happened?"

"Hey, Spina," he mumbled, embarrassed by his friend's concern. "Check Davis for me, first, okay?"

"Forget it, Doc," Lipton immediately overruled him. "Spina, check Doc first. He'd already taken care of Davis before he got wounded, and he seems to be doing okay."

"Sure, Lip," Spina quickly agreed, turning his full attention to his fellow medic. "I see the leg wound – anything else I need to know?"

"Yeah, he hit his head pretty hard and lost consciousness about ten minutes ago. It took awhile for me to wake him up, and he's been pretty groggy ever since."

"Hmmm." Spina carefully turned Eugene's face towards him to get a better look. "Yeah, I can see the lump." He probed the lump gently, causing Roe to flinch at the touch. "Sorry, Gene. No bleeding, though, that's a good sign. How'd it happen?"

"He got hit jumping a fence and landed hard on his side. He got up right away, though, so I didn't think much of it at the time," Lipton explained, "just thought he got winded from the fall."

He nodded, and then spoke directly to his patient. "How's the head feel?"

He shrugged. "It hurts." The pain wasn't quite as bad as it was when he'd first woken up, though.

"You're not seeing double or anything, are you?"

"No."

"Good. Dizziness?"

"Yeah, a bit," he reluctantly admitted, meeting Spina's dark eyes and then automatically tracking his finger back in forth when the medic told him to.

"Well, I don't think it's a concussion," he finally said. "Now, let's take a look at that leg." He scooted down out of Eugene's range of vision. "Holy shit! How did this happen?"

If his leg hadn't felt like it was on fire, Roe would have laughed at Spina's shocked voice. Instead, he clenched his teeth against the waves of agony that sliced through him as the other medic worked, only vaguely aware of the conversion flowing above him.

"That fence he jumped…it was barbed wire. When the bullet hit his rucksack, it knocked him off balance just enough for the wire to catch him as he went over. He was up and moving the next second so I never thought…" his voice trailed off. "I didn't even know he was bleeding until he collapsed," he added after a minute.

"Bet that was a surprise."

"Yeah, you know it. He gonna be okay?"

"He's lost a lot of blood. Shit, the Germans could probably follow the blood trail straight to us if they had a mind to – and they better not. Hey Babe! You and Hashey unroll those stretchers. We're gonna need 'em both."

"Spina…"

"It's a long cut, Sarge, and pretty deep, but I think if we get it stitched up and keep him off it for a few days, he should be fine. That head injury will help keep him off his feet, too, that and the blood loss. But Doc's tough. As long as it doesn't get infected, we should have him back with us before you know it."

"You hear that, Doc?" Lipton's voice sounded closer now so he pried his heavy eyelids open. The sergeant smiled when he saw he was looking at him and patted his shoulder. "You're not gonna get out of this that easily."

"Gene?" Spina moved back up so he could see him, his dark eyes still serious but his face a bit more relaxed than before. "I'm gonna give you a shot of morphine so it'll be easier to move you, alright? Then we'll finish bandaging you up and get you back to the aid station. Don't worry. You're gonna be fine."

A quick prick and Eugene drifted off, reassured that he was in good hands.

Four days later…

"Hey, Doc! Glad you're back!"

Several well-wishers greeted Roe as he limped his way into Easy Company's Command Post to officially report back for duty. Captain Winters, Lieutenant Welsh, and First Sergeant Lipton paused in their conversation and grinned as he made his way over to them.

"Doc, did they officially release you or did you sneak back?" questioned Winters, his warm gaze studying him, trying to decide for himself.

"No, sir," he drawled softly. "They said I could leave."

"And what did you have to promise for that to happen?" laughed Welsh as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the table.

Roe smiled sheepishly, "Nuthin' much. I guess they figured that since I'm a medic, I could take care of it myself." At Captain Winters disbelieving look, he reluctantly added, "I do have to go back in a few days to get the stitches out. They don' want me to do it myself."

"Make sure you do that, Doc." Although it was spoken as a request, it was perfectly clear to Eugene that he was expected to follow it as if it were a direct order.

"Yes, sir," he replied, shifting a bit of weight off of his wounded leg.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Captain Winters. "Well, take it easy for the next few days. We need you back, but not at the expense of your health. First Sergeant," he turned to Lipton, and nodded towards the opening of the tent. "I think we can spare you for a bit to make sure Doc gets to where he's supposed to be."

A meaningful look passed between the two men. "Yes, sir. This way, Doc."

Roe followed him out the tent, Lipton adjusting his stride to compensate for the medic's pronounced limp. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Lipton finally spoke. "I need to know the truth, Doc. Are you ready to come back this soon?"

"I'm fine," he insisted in a calm, firm voice, glancing over to meet Lipton's concerned eyes for a second before returning his gaze to the ground in front of him. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could do my job."

"I'm not doubting you, Doc," the other man sighed. "It's those guys back at the aid station that worry me." He was quiet for a few more yards. "Well, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you. How many stitches did you end up with?"

Eugene couldn't help but smile a bit at the question, having wondered how long it would be before someone asked him. "'Bout 40. I don' recall the exact number."

Lipton snorted and threw him an amused look. "You mean you didn't count 'em? You're gonna have to better than that, Doc."

The two men passed by another group of soldiers who greeted the medic loudly and cheerfully, much to his embarrassment. Lipton grinned at the look on Roe's face but didn't comment on it. Once they had passed the men, he continued their conversation. "What about Davis? He gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's doing as well as expected, but I'm not sure if he'll be back. They shipped him back to England yesterday afternoon." He hesitated, uncertain if the time was right to say what he'd been thinking about for the last few days. Wrestling internally with the decision, he finally made up his mind. _This is as good a time as any, _he decided, _and you never know if you'll get another chance_. "I appreciate everything you did for me that day, Sergeant Lipton," he said softly, pausing to look the NCO full in the face. "You saved my life."

Lipton stared at him for a moment, his expression serious, his eyes grave. "Now you know how I felt at Carentan, Doc, after you patched me up. How Talbert and Blythe felt – shoot, I can't name half of the men that you've saved since the night we jumped into France. We can never repay you for everything you've done for us, but at least now you know how we feel about you."

The sincere words caught him by surprise, making it hard to come up with a reply. _Is that true?_ he wondered, turning his unseeing gaze to the green countryside that surrounded them. _Why should they feel that way? I'm just doing my job – just like they are. I don't understand…_ "That's my job," he drawled after a full minute of silence, his voice puzzled.

"We know it is, Doc," the understanding in the other man's voice caused him to turn back. Lipton was still staring at him only this time he had the same unidentifiable expression on his face that he'd seen the day he'd been wounded. "But it's the way that you do it…without ever thinking of yourself, without hesitation, without fear for your own life. You've been right beside us every step of the way. And we want to keep it that way." A small smile crossed his face, erasing the earlier expression completely. "You keep that in mind, though, the next time you go jumping over any barbed wire fences," he teased, "I don't want to patch you up again anytime soon. Got it?"

He smiled faintly and nodded, still stunned by the sudden outpouring of words by the normally quiet First Sergeant. He'd never asked to be a medic, to hold someone's life in his hands, but it was his job, what he'd been trained to do. And as hard as it was most of the time – seeing the men he'd know and trained with for the last two years get wounded or killed – he wouldn't trade it with anyone. They were _his_ men…_his_ responsibility. He would do anything to help them.

As they continued on, he silently swore to himself yet again that he would not let these men down – no matter what. And he was comforted to know that they felt the same way about him.

END

Author's Note: I found an old article the other day that mentioned that the only time Eugene Roe was away from Easy Company was for four days after he'd badly sliced his leg during a battle in Holland. My imagination filled in the rest, and thus, this story was born. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
